Very very high power numbers for the speed you sure your powermeter isnt out again?

Yep, manual zero before the event. And the numbers are pretty much what I expected.

Hilly and windy, and I have a lot of frontal area. I was on a very non-aero bike setup - Deep-V rims vs. 80mm carbon, drop bars with STI shifters for brakes vs. TT base bars and brakes etc. etc. I'm wasting a lot of power.

Raced with Blackburn Cycling club "B" grade at Casey fields on Saturday. My favourite type of race, my favourite circuit and almost perfect conditions (perhaps a tiny bit cold). You would think things would go ok then. Nup, chewed up and spat out. I haven't been dropped in a crit' for over a year and a half. I only manged 30 minutes in this race. It was a more choppy race speed-wise than I'm used to. I was dropped when we started chasing a good break of 2. We worked hard for a few laps, then it came to my turn on the front again, I went into the red and when the rest of the group went around me I could not get on the back. Out of breath and legs. Felt a little humbled tbh. It wasn't the fastest I've raced there, nor the hardest. I'm just not coming back into form like I thought I was.

Anyway, I took Sunday off the bik and I'll be back on the trainer tonight. Time to get a little more serious. Off the beers and watch the diet a little better. I don't mind not winning B grade, I just don't want to have to go back to C for Crits.

AG Gran Fondo, 916 of 4000 registered riders and bettered my time from last year by about 15 minutes, despite having the legs fade 40km from the finish. This time my 'dead legs' power was about 270W, vs. about 250W last year. This year, the power just faded, as opposed to last year where I bonked ~ 15km from the finish. I lost ~ six minutes by the side of the road for nature breaks, cramping and refilling bottles, the guy in our team who finished six minutes ahead of me finished in the top 700, so losing time in this even really hurts!

For the first section to the top of the KOM, I took 1:38:21, 306W average, 329W NP with average HR of 158 and 1808 Kj at the wheel. By the finish, it was 271W avg, 299W NP, 146 average HR & 3,582Kj at the wheel.

I went into the race with a simple plan, sit in the pack, do the minimum amount of work and wait for the last 400m or so.

It went to plan, well for the 1st two laps. On the 1st climb of the 3rd lap. "Ting, Ting, Ting" it sounded like I had broken a spoke. I stopped to see the damage. It was not a broken spoke, but my rear wheel speed sensor for my Garmin was loose and fallen into the wheel. Took me a couple minutes to find and fix the problem, but my race was run. I could not chase back two (actually it was closer to 3) minutes. So I settled in for a lonely ride. As I approach the finish line the next time for the bell lap, I could see a couple of stragglers, who I later found out was Dave & Amy, a couple of hundred metres ahead, so I had a target for my last lap.

I got lapped by A Grade on the first climb of my final lap, it was tempting to tuck in behind and get some assistance, but I did not. Luckily for me, as they where follow by the Commissaire. It did not really matter, I was rapidly catching the two riders ahead, I was probably only 60m behind, when I crested the 2nd climbed and was passed by another rider. At first I thought it was a B grade rider off the front of their group. It quickly became apparent this was not a B grader off the front, but a C grader who had mechanical and was riding almost at the same pace as me. As we were from different grades we could not ride together and swap turns. So I sat about 10m off and used him as a visual pacemaker.

Which worked well, until the C grader passed the two stragglers, they pick up their pace and tucked in behind. It did not really matter as I was less than 15m behind and tagged onto the end of the group. If it was only Dave & Amy, I probably would attacked on the final climb and try to solo the last 2km to the finish, as Dave is stronger sprinter than me. Instead I stayed tucked in behind the pacemaker, waited to about 400m and launched an attack, only to have Dave go past me with about 50m to go to secure 12th place.

If asked which pro cyclist I ride like, I would love to say Marianne Vos, but the truth is David Montcoutie and it is not related to climbing ability. I am OK at short climbs, where I can use a burst of power to get over it, anything long enough to involve power to weight ratios and I am off the back, unlike Montcoutie.

Both I and David Montcoutie suffer from poor balance and neither of use can take both hands of the bars without a serious risk of crashing. Which was when you saw Montcoutie racing, he was either at the front of the race or at the very back of the peleton. I never understood why, until I started racing. Now, I do exactly the same. I sit at the back of group because I feel it is safer for me and other riders. It has disadvantages, you can miss the break, you have to work harder out of corners and you need to expend more energy to get to the front when needed. However, given the nervous energy I expend when riding close to the front or in the middle of a group, watching what is happening all around me, I much prefer to be at the back only worrying about what is happening in front.

Most of the other grades had 6 to 8 riders, except D grade we had about 18 riders. One of our riders gave a talk about not repeating the aggressive racing tactics early, that we had in a race a few weeks ago. While in my opinion they were valid race tactics, it did spoil the race for the riders unable to keep up initial hectic pace. I was marshalling that day, and saw a few unhitched by the 10km mark and was happy I chose that day to do my marshalling duties. Given that two of the more powerful riders had made it to C grade and a few riders who don't regular race riding, it was going to be interesting to see what happen today. Given I haven't had much luck lately, I was going to sit back, watch what was going on and aim survive to the end.

The race went to plan for the first 3 laps, a good steady pace, I sat back, did not contribute to the pace making, as there was no reason, particularly as I did not expect to get involved in the final sprint. On the 4th lap, the speed picked up on the back straight, then as turned the final corner with almost 3km to go, the race exploded. I spent the next 800m passing riders, looking for the front of the race. Found it, about 8 riders with WizzFizz on the front, about 25m ahead. The next 1.5km or so it was a drag race between me and WizzFizz, while dodging riders getting dropped and then drifting from the left side of the road to the right as I was passing them.

I didn't get back on, with a few hundred metres to go the attacks started, riders went in all directions, but I just did not have the energy to catch any of the last half dozen riders.

Still, I was happy with my performance, after fast paced 30km, I managed to almost match WizzFizz for what was 2km+ drag race at 40kmh into a crosswind and finished ahead of most riders. I just needed to be in a better position for the final corner. Well next week is last race of the season, so I will be looking for a better position in the last few kilometres and maybe I will do a few turns on the front.

Southern Tasmanian Cycling 40km Woodsdale race. The was a break through race of sorts for me last year, and is a Mass start race over very undulating terrain with a killer climb on the return leg, i arrived with tired legs after a a week of running and mountain biking, i knew i had the fitness but had been really fatigued. I rocked up to the meeting area to see a group of Lawson Homes and TasVend riders that had shown up as a bit of a Tour of Tasmania warm up, then arrived the Genesys riders in the form of Jai Crawford, Nathan Earle and Anthony Giacoppo. This was going to be a tough race!

So off we set, with the Lawson Homes guys setting the pace early, i was running in about 10th place, keeping the Genesys boys and my fellow "B" graders in sight, the course was covered in pot holes and has lots of short sharp climbs to contend with, so there was riders going left and right, the bloke i was following the wheel of was into the gutter more than once, then the Lawson homes boy setting the pace dropped his chain and the Genesys boys took over the pace setting, this was going to be the beginning of the end i thought, i managed to hang on for a few kilometers but i got caught in the wind on one of the climbs as Jai Crawford set a steady climbing pace, and i popped, not to be outdone so did all the other A graders about 100m up the road, but i was stuck in no man's land riding solo for the next 5km until the turn. after the turn the course heads straight back up, kicking up to about 13%, there were a few boys ahead of me and a few behind me, i had a crack on the climb to try and catch the boys infront but it was too late and my lungs were toast, so i climbed at my own pace over the climb and didnt push myself to hard on the flats, eventually letting two boys behind me catch up. As soon as they caught me one of them cracked and two of us swapped turn till the finish line.

Overall i think my average pace was just a touch under 33km/h but considering that the three Genesys riders only averaged 36km/h it shows how tough the course is, was happy with the ride and finished ahead of a few A graders and second in B grade, being only pipped by a hard climbing Vet who would normally race A grade without the "pro" guys racing.

Managed (somehow!) to hang in for the first hour, legs gone so I said my "see you laters" 6Km from the finish and arrived at the finish line exactly one minute after the remaining five in the bunch. Ended up finishing 6'th of 15 starters (M1 & M2), three DNF's.

325W average, 348W NP, 162 BPM, 36.5kph for 46.2km.

And there was a long and distinguished list of riders who came in after me, including all but one rider in the M1 35-39 group, and a number of A & B grade riders.

And for those in the know.... my time was faster than Mr Downing's!

PS - this is considered to be a 'flat course' (for Canberra), so there were no short/steep hills to get dropped on.

It was not one of my better organised days, arrived late, my warm up was riding from the car to the start line, finding out my new power meter was not working (hopefully just flat battery)

With the AFL Grand Final on today, I expected a smaller than usual field today. It was only 5 or 6 riders compared to 16 last week in D grade. To make things interesting we were combined with the 5 from C grade to make a bigger group. Which destroyed any strategy I had planned and reverted to the hang on and see what happens tactics I use most weeks.

Nobody really wanted to take second wheel as we rolled off the line, so I did. The C grader at the front set a steady 36kmh for the 1st km and then swung off, I took my turn as we swung on Corio Road, picked up a slight tailwind and I was sitting on 38kmh. I swung off, dropped back to my usual position as ticket collector and a couple of other C graders picked up the paced to 40kmh. I did try to get my garmin to find my power meter, dropped off the pack had to work to get back on. Took a drink at the wrong time, off the back had to work to get back on. Not paying attention, off the back again, more work. Last ride through the corner, more work. On to Lakes road and we are still on 40 kmh, after a couple of kms at this pace, for an unknown cause I am off the back. I work as hard as I can, but I can't get back on, I pop.

I cut my losses and settle for a steady pace, expecting more riders to get dropped. Instead a couple of kms later the group slows, not slow enough for me to catch, but slow enough to deny me company for the next 40km. The only company I do get is a magpie crashing into my helmet, half a dozen times as I head up Corio Road the 2nd time. One of the marshals I usually race with, feels sorry for me and provides a little motor pacing for me as I head to the finish for 5th of 5 or was it 6 riders in D grade.

Lesson learnt for today, while my hanging on the back and working hard at times, lets me survive in the group with D grade most weeks. It will not work if I want to get to C grade. I am going to have to learn to ride in the pack. Well that is what the Crit season is for, as well as improving my bike handling and sprinting.

toolonglegs wrote:Live and learn mate... getting out there and having fun is the main thing at our level.

I do seem to be enjoying it , learning a lot about racing (and training). Waiting for the criterium calendar to get announced so I can race some more. I understand the limitations of my age, health and medications, never make it to A grade, B is probably a reach, but we will see what happens in the next year of training, racing and so forth, the target is C grade.

So after Saturday's race effort, went on training ride with some of the younger guys in the grades above today. 55km into the city, not a problem, other than sitting on the front into 40kmh gusting to 50kmh headwind, to navigate them through 6km of backroad due to roadworks. On the 40km return for me, I am sitting on the back, how unusual, heading over some undulations at 40kmh+, when the rider in front unhitches. Being a nice guy, I sit infront of him to try and get him back, but he has popped, contemplating riding back with him, when his mate realises what is happening and drops off. Now I have 40m gap to close and I do it easily. 12km later, I do 2km on the front at pace before turning off and heading home and a wind assisted KOM attempt on a competitive with friends Strava segment (set PB, but friend was out earlier and took the KOM with a 14 second PB, so still 3 seconds off KOM). Where were my legs on Saturday, if I can do this on Monday?

Report:So first race, get there and put into E grade do a little bit of a warm up and waiting for to be sent on our way. First lap is the quickest of them all and I was doubting whether or not I would be able to stick in there for 3 more laps of this punishment. I'm just trying to hold the wheel in front of me and hide out of the wind as best I can. Two laps to go, comes as a great relief and I'm feeling better and pretty confident I'll make it by this stage. Last lap and a group of four have broken away and I had nothing to chase them nor did anyone else left in the group. Coming up the finally corner one of them has slipped off the back and is a few hundred metres ahead the group surges but doesn't seem to catch any ground on him. 1000m left and I'm drafting then I'm on the front as we approach 750m odd to go and figure bugger it time to go and off I shoot with the guy in 4th place my target. I can see him and he has definitely slowed but the wind is just to much and I'll never make the distant before the line. Then with 100m left to go a guy comes up beside me and the sprint for 5th is on I try and hold out but I get pipped by half a bike length.

So yea first race was harder than I could of ever imagined but oh it was so much fun and I'll be back next week that is for sure!

“How much you lost?” the Illawara Hammer asked, as we rode through the Neutral Zone. “10kg,”replied Orange CC’s very own Mario Chipollini. He was wearing Chipo’s famous sunnies, and he has chocolate brown calves, shaved and oiled, just like Chipo. “I have also lost 10kg and 51 <something> fat,” continued the Hammer. Now that takes him from 60kg to like 50kg in my opinion. He looks like someone dropped a Praying Mantis in lycra. “I don’t monitor it that closely,” continued Chipo. “Hey, is this a race or weightwatchers anonymous?” Okay, I only thought that. I knew that would be the last I saw of Chipo until the final lap.

Aphorism: “In the rain, the early break often stays away.” The forecast was for belting, rain. It was only spitting but there was a strong north-easterly.

The Canary, departed early. Yellow< something> CC. The Hammer rolled across. We had only covered like 3km, we were not even at the hilly part. There was one rider from my club in the bunch; a rider I had usually watched ride off into the distance. Most notably at the World Masters where he rode off the front in a Crit, ahead of people in Russian and US national kit. Impressive. Well his riding is. As we sat under the giant Subaru Starting Balloon, the announcer couldn’t help but ask him a few questions about how many points he needed for the combined title. I looked over at him; he looked like he got dressed in a St Vincent de Paul. His white Cevelo chain stays were nearly worn through from heel strike and the decals had faded to grey. His NSCC kit was three models ago and had turned grey and pink rather than red and black. I won’t mention his shoes and helmet. St Vincent, one of the NSCC idols, crossed the double lines and headed off for the break. There was a gap to my right, I sliced through and took his wheel. Then I made the fateful decision to roll back, to roll back and wither in the bunch. It was too early, they wouldn’t let two NSCC riders bridge, there are big names still in the bunch, blah, blah, the silly logic went in my head.

The race stepped uphill into a headwind. The tempo was; attack mercilessly, then everyone sit up for a while and mooch about all over the road. The first such attack was at the base of the first step; it came from a random assortment of people with too much energy. I noted that my HR was in the overload zone. I knew it would be savage, this race, but not here, the ‘suffaaaah’ starts later. I think everyone freaked out. So we mooched.

The Sutherland boys don’t like mooching. They cracked first, “We will never get the break back like this.” Sutherland is sponsored by Endeavour Cycles; green and yellow on white. Two of them went off like scalded cats on the right. Went off to endeavour to get back the break by themselves. “It’s really slippery,” I remember a returning rider warning us as we rolled to the start. Endeavour 1, stood as he drove for the front of the bunch. 50kg, pencil legs and carbon tubs at 140psi: his back wheel span and wobbled. He resumed his seat. Once at the front they decided that we were all lame and they should hurt us. And they did. Indeed one endeavoured himself off the front. Some others for company including my-good-self. We sped away and all behind us splintered and blew. Excellent. But then we were caught and revenge was extracted.

I grovelled for a wheel having spent to much in the all too brief break. I found my wheel . I set about suffering. I started to count the grease marks on the BMC SL01 chain-stay in front of me. Indeed, I started to make shapes and stories from them like the ink blot test. I have no-idea what was happening around me. I only know in intricate detail that speckled chain-stay that helped me up the climb. There is much to see when suffering. A black and lime Willier with 60Ton stamped on the rear seat stay, what are the black circles on a Powertap hub for, so many things to ponder intensely. When the pondering no longer works, there is the begging.

After but 12km I had my first occasion to beg. ….

I turned to see how my wheelman was doing, was he suffering too? He was from Peleton Sports, a very noble, and some might say haughty club. The mucus from his nose had joined with the dribble from his month and formed the letter ‘A’. Perhaps it wasn’t an A, perhaps it was another letter, but he was suffering too, that was clear.The wrong wheel, I had the wrong wheel. This wheel was slipping away from me. There was some sort of polarity issue. It just kept moving away. Another wheel, I must find another wheel. Racing is stupid. What makes me think dropping back and finding another wheel would help. But it did, I found this super Campy wheel that was really attracted to my Campy Neutrons. I thanked god. It was thus lucky that I decided to run Aluminium clinchers not my carbon wheels due to the weather.

Time to apply some Jedi powers, “This is not the wheel you are looking for.” Most riders, don’t like being touched in the bunch. They might like shaving and looking at each other, but the feel of skin on skin in the bunch, or lycra on lycra is repellent. I brush the wheel-stealer’s hand with mine, we rub elbows, who says it is not romantic in the bunch. He moves left and drops back to find another wheel to steal.

Lap 2. This is where the hurt happens. Do you like to hurt? Hurting is funny. I love riding someone off my wheel. Slowly, inexorably. Inexorably, that should be a cycling word. Slow death. When it happens to you, it is super-deep suck. Is it really character building to be ridden off? Nope. It just sux and you go home and deny everything. ”Come on pull through and roll turns, we are six away,” I scream breathlessly. I drive through and take the front. Then, suddenly, we are one away into the wind and the sucker is me. Alone in the wind. There is an anger you get when you drive through, it pushes you over your limits. Those five guys suck, the 50 behind them are worse. Solo. Solo. The coward racer. This is the juxtaposition we fight against. We dream of being Philip Gilbert, but fear the ignominy of the door, the back door. So we are coward racers, be conservative is a mantra for our crew. Front to back in the Peleton, it is the shortest journey. First there is begging, then there is praying, then for me there is giving in. I had placed a picture my daughter gave me in the bib-strap close to my heart. When the begging ends, I always think of her. She will always love me, no matter how badly I race. When I think of Amy it means I am ready to drop off. It is the end.

I looked behind me. I was in an unfamiliar place; last place. This is not the place to be, any good cycling book will tell you. I looked back, there was the Commissaire’s car, and behind them the Shimano support vehicle. “The support vehicle crew has been instructed that they can give you a wheel, but they cannot give you a tow,” I remember from the race briefing. The Shimano Neutral Service car was very nice, a Subaru, with lovely wide mirrors and a shiny, wide, black central pillar. A enticingly helpful looking vehicle.

De arrire de peleton, lantern rouge, tail gunner. There is a door at the back of the bunch, if you step through that door it takes you straight to hell. A LACC rider fell through the door. Chapeaux to him, he was dropped after 5km, but was determined to extract every dollar of value from his $40 entry fee. I saw him twice, in hell, set against the headwind. It is very lonely OTB.I wasn’t going OTB. Racing is amazing. One minute you are powering off the front, the next begging, then fine again, all in the space of two minutes. Aphorism: “If you are not a climber, move to the front at the base of the climb and roll back.” This applies when you are in the dead zone too. So I pushed to the front, driving a big gear, trying to get my HR under control. Ah, back in 5th to 10th, home at last!

It was ever so TDF. The motorcycle riders wore yellow vests over their black leathers. You would hear the engine revving out as they came up. Sadly I think they were sponsored by the NSW Police Force. In general the sign read, ‘Group warning, poor riding over the centreline.’ And “75% of lane use only.” Seldom a time check. So what comes after warning for riding over the centreline then? They stop us and give as a good, hard, sound talking to? Never mind, there were some enthusiastic sorts all along the route only too happy to provide time checks, 2min, 2min 30, 2min 45, 3min. The TT Champion killed it at the end of lap two, “That’s a race winning move if ever I saw one.” All spirit evaporated from the bunch. The chimera of teamwork was gone. Like so many rats, we began to attack each other.

My ghost visited me on the last lap. He haunts me and gives me electric shocks in my Quads, just above the knee, then in my calves until it is like a machine-gun of electric shocks. He is cramp. I stand, I shake my legs like Cancellara, I pray for better legs, I drink all my fluids. I bought some magnesium powder. It looks like I urinated in my bottle. It was too strong so I watered it down – a lot. Now it tastes most exactly like drinking an ashtray left out on the BBQ table after a storm. Am I doomed? 15km to go, a big break. I am not in it. Finally, it looks close enough for me to bridge, I fly off, standing, each leg doing a micro-cramp on each pedal stroke. I am kind of half-sprinting. Again the cycling hand-book doesn’t seem to mention half-sprinting as an approved method of bridging. Worse, I have no change-up should any of those nasty wheel-suck-leeches come around me. I am starring at my front tyre, half-sprinting from the drops. It is a Durano (my tyre), and I watch the little bits of spray flicking out of the tread and landing on my glasses. It is raining now. The Durano is not a race tyre. Am I a Durano racer? I look up, did someone push slow motion on the race remote. I am gaining uphill, but it is not fast. It is like 20m now, but it is too far. The sprint king goes around me as do two more. I can’t take a wheel, they just fly by. Finally, I think someone feels sorry for me and teleports me to the rear of the break because I don’t know how I got there.

Now we are going downhill at 60kmh maybe faster. That tail wind is awesome. My cramps are gone. They must be up-hill cramps. 5th wheel and flying. All under-control and strong. Chipo comes by on the gravel. It must be close to the finish; time for an ill-considered all-out attack I reckon. Why he doesn’t sprint with the King I don’t know, they know each other from the ‘old days.’ We are all strung out, lots of little sprint attacks, even the king has a go. I can see the finish. Third wheel centre. Perfect. I lock The Sydney CC guy on the centreline and we are all set. The secret of the finish is, not to look for wheels but to choose your own destiny. Don’t follow the player, follow the ball. Knowing and executing, they are different. The king goes, but is a positional. I have a gap, god I have gaps anywhere I like. God himself has placed a sunlight path upon the damp bitumen for me to follow. A clear and beautiful path. But I have the cramp again so I half-sprint. Half-sprinting, half works in bridging, but in sprinting, sprinting for at best fourth, it is a super-sub-optimal technique. Should I lunge for 15th? So many vexing questions in racing.

“Congratulations St Vincent,” I say. “We worked our arse off.” Now a rare gift he has, but he can’t sprint. 3rd of 3. That sux.The town sign indicates it was founded in 1853 and has a population of 1000, exactly. 1630 on a Sat, the local boys are lined out at the pub to cheer us home. Maybe 15 of them. One is holding up the 1001th resident of Gunning, a blow up doll, full size. He is offering her to us. This might sound either naf or bogan-like but it was actually really funny and cool. As we rode past I sat up and pulled a 10ner out of my pockets and waved it at them. They thought this was very funny. To be honest, that was the best thing I had done all day.

Last edited by ft_critical on Sun Oct 07, 2012 8:35 pm, edited 1 time in total.

1st race post summer crit season and a win! in the Great Ocean Road Classic 120km team time trial. it's a handicap event and our team captain managed to negotiate a handicap based on expected finish time of 5 hours, while we finished in 4. there may have been some boos when we collected the trophy, but i'll take it

i dare say that if we return next year, our handicap may be a bit different. in our defense, we did have 2 female team members (not that i'd call them a handicap, they rode really strongly).

Hey Jules I was in the same boat many years ago. (Hmm 34yrs) The main race at the Moree velodrome was the Wilmont Memorial race and was a 1600mtr race and I told the handicaper what I was riding off in QLD against Kenrick Tucker, Aus Sprint Champion and Commonwealth games rider, that he gave me 15mtrs in a 1000mtr and 25mtrs in the 1600mtrs handicaps and I was also riding Aces which was the top grade or Elite now. So what did he do, he put me on 90mtrs and of course I won it easily.

Foo

I don't suffer fools easily and so long as you have done your best,you should have no regrets.Goal 6000km

the way i justify it to myself Foo is that it's little different to someone winning a Tour stage after a monster breakaway that the chasing bunch miscalculated their run - you gotta roll with the punches

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